Jack's Christmas Carol
by AstraPerAspera
Summary: It's a week before Christmas and Jack gets some unexpected visitors. With apologies to Mr. Dickens. Sam and Jack ship. Written especially for Zuz at GW as her Secret Santa gift. Thanks for letting me share!
1. Chapter 1

**Jack's Christmas Carol**

by

AstraPerAspera

_(Author's Note: with apologies to Charles Dickens, Brad Wright, Robert C. Cooper, Joseph Mallozzi, Paul Mullie, Martin Gero, Alan McCullough, Tor Alexander Valenza and Peter DeLuise.)_

Jacob Carter was dead. Jack had no doubt in his mind about that whatsoever. He'd witnessed Jacob's death himself, through the glass in the observation room. He'd held Sam moments later as she'd wept against his chest. He'd attended Jacob's funeral, standing next to Sam on a windswept ridge on the coldest June day on Colorado's record book. Nothing would have convinced him that Jacob Carter was anything other than deceased…except Jacob Carter himself, who seemed to be standing there in the bedroom, giving him a very Jacob Carter-esque stare, his hands clasped together in front of him, an impatient look on his face.

"Jacob?" Jack squinted in the darkness at the form standing at the foot of the bed.

"Jack."

Jack couldn't help it. He glanced at the sleeping form in the bed next to him. The fact that the sleeping form was Jacob's daughter made the situation more than a little awkward. He looked back at Jacob who merely blinked, waiting. The conversational ball was in Jack's court. He sat up quietly, not wanting to disturb Sam. If this were some sort of bizarre dream or hallucination the last thing he wanted was to wake her. She was leaving on a mission to search for the San Graal in the morning and needed every moment of rest she could get. Not that they'd let that stop them earlier…okay…not where he wanted his thoughts to go with Sam's dad standing there watching him.

"So…I thought you were dead?"

"I am."

Jack wondered briefly if there had been something wrong with the Guinness he'd drank earlier. He rubbed his eyes. Jacob was still there. Glowing a little, it seemed. This was…different.

"So…this would make you…?"

"A ghost," Jacob supplied.

"A ghost," Jack repeated. It had to be the Guinness. He'd check the expiration date in the morning. "As in…"

"As in a non-corporeal manifestation of the person I was when I walked the earth. And the rest of the galaxy."

Something clicked in Jack's head.

"You ascended," he realized aloud. "Like Daniel…"

His voice trailed off as Jacob shook his head.

"No. Nothing so complicated. I'm just your garden-variety apparition. Haunt. Spirit. Whatever you want to call me."

Jack hadn't a clue what to say, except:

"What…no chains?"

Jacob's look was indulgent. Jack conceded.

"Right…that would be a such a cliché…"

"…and we all know how you feel about those, Jack," completed Jacob.

"Are you here for a reason…or just floating through?" Since this had to be a complete figment of his imagination there was really no point in going out of his way to be polite.

"Oh I'm here for a reason." Jack saw Jacob's eyes flit momentarily toward the sleeping Sam before returning to Jack. Yeah. This was really awkward. Even if it was only an hallucination.

"And that would be…?"

"Your happiness…and Sam's."

"Ah. See. Already got that. So thanks for stopping by…and—don't take this the wrong way, Jacob—but don't hurry back.

"Jack—I'm serious. I know you think you're happy now, but the truth is you're not. Not really."

Jack wiped both hands across his eyes. Why couldn't he just have normal dreams, for crying out loud? When he opened his eyes again, Jacob was still standing there. Jack sighed.

"Yeah…well…coulda fooled me." This was beginning to sound eerily like the conversation Sam had told him she'd had with her father when she'd conked her head on the Prometheus a few years back. Except her father hadn't really been there. Just like he really wasn't here now.

"I'm not the one who's doing the fooling, Jack. You are. You haven't been honest with yourself and it's keeping you from having what you want most from life."

"And that would be…?"

"Only you can answer that, Jack."

Great. A ghost who wanted to play twenty-questions. Like he needed this at 3 am.

"Tell you what…let me give it some thought and I'll get back to you."

"I'm sorry, Jack, but I can't do that. There isn't enough time. _You_ don't have enough time. This has to be taken care of tonight…or it might be too late."

"Yeah…speaking of late…you do know that I have to be in the Pegasus Galaxy tomorrow, and I could use a little less talk and a little more sleep."

"I do know, Jack. And that's why I'm here. It's a matter of now or never."

Jack sighed heavily. Hallucination or imaginary figment or Jacob Carter really back from the dead…whatever he was, there seemed to be no getting rid of him.

"You know…it's always the same with you guys. Rush, rush, rush. A little better planning and I could have gotten this over with _and_ had a good night's sleep. Can't you do better with this whole cosmic time management thing?"

"Jack…"

"Jacob…look…I know you mean well. But if it's all the same to you…."

"Do you love my daughter?"

That brought Jack up short. He studied the figure of Jacob Carter carefully. Whatever he was, there was no mistaking the look on his face. It was the look he knew _he'd_ be wearing if he were talking to the man in bed with his daughter…if he had a daughter.

"You have to ask?"

"You didn't answer my question, Jack. Do you love Sam?"

Jack swallowed. He was never comfortable saying this stuff, even to Sam. He felt his eye twitch.

"Yeah. I do."

"Then if you won't do this for yourself, then at least do it for her."

Sam stirred slightly in the bed next to him, as though she somehow was aware of their discussion. Jack glanced at her again and a momentary ache of panic struck his heart. He'd tried not to think of her going off-world tomorrow. Tried to pretend it was just another night together for both of them. In theory they would be back together in a week; Mark Carter had invited them to Christmas dinner and Sam had already bought the plane tickets for San Diego. But theory was only…well, theoretical, and too many damn things could go wrong at the drop of a hat. Maybe it wasn't a coincidence that Jacob Carter's image was standing at the foot of his bed issuing him a warning. He'd seen stranger things in his life, after all.

"Okay. Yeah. Sure. I'll do it…for Sam. But come on, Jacob. What the hell are we talking about here? And don't give me any of that cryptic crap, either."

"Fine, Jack. I'll spell it out for you. You're going to be visited by two other spirits tonight…."

"Not three?"

"Listen to them Jack. Try to keep an open mind. You just might learn something."

"Look, Jacob…not that I don't appreciate you trying to help me and all…."

"Who said I was doing this for you?" His eyes strayed ever so briefly back to Sam.

"Ahh…. I see."

"No…I'm not sure you do, Jack. But maybe, some day, if you're lucky…you will."

Jacob began to slowly fade, like a light on one of those dimmer switches. For a few seconds Jack swore he could see right through him. And then he was gone, and the room was dark and quiet except for the steady rhythm of Sam's breathing.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Deciding there was more Guinness than grave about what he'd just seen, Jack sank back against the pillows and let out a sigh. Great. It was bad enough to be worried about Sam's mission with SG-1. Now he was imagining Jacob Carter haunting him because he was sleeping with his daughter. What shrink wouldn't have a field day with that one.

Sam stirred again. That wasn't like her. He'd lain awake next to her enough nights to know that when she slept it was deep and still, not this constant fretting about as she had been doing tonight. Jack fought the urge to put his arm around her and draw her against him. It might wake her and she really did need the rest. He wouldn't risk it, no matter how badly at this particular moment he would have loved to have felt the warmth of her body nestled against his.

"Ya know, Jack. The least you could do is say hello."

Jack's head snapped up off the pillow. Standing in another dim pool of like, not unlike Jacob's, was another figure, younger, leaner, a wry twist of his mouth making him instantly recognizable.

"Kawalsky?"

"Hey, Jack. How's it goin'?"

Jack went to rub his face but let his hands drop. What the hell. It hadn't worked to get rid of Jacob. Why on earth would it work with Kawalsky?

"Well…you know…the knee's been acting up a little…then there's that whole promotion thing…."

"Yeah…I heard about that. Congratulations, General."

"Meh," Jack replied with a shrug. "I can take it or leave it. Most days I think I'd rather leave it."

"Well, to be honest, Jack…I never thought I'd see you flying a desk."

"Go figure, huh?"

"Yeah…go figure. It wouldn't have anything to do with a certain blond Lieutenant Colonel, would it?

Jack sighed.

"Kawalsky…"

"I'm just sayin'...you know…. After all…that is why I'm here."

"It is?"

"Uh-huh. So how 'bout you come with me for awhile."

"You mean this actually involves getting out of bed?"

"Fraid so, Jack. But we'll be back before you know it. Really."

"I don't like…have to hold your hand or anything do I?"

Kawalsky chuckled.

"Nah…not when we've got beaming technology."

"You mean…." But Jack never got the rest of the sentence out. The warm glow and slightly fizzy feeling of the Asgard beam enveloped him and the next thing he knew he was sitting on the ground…the very hard and cold ground…looking up at Kawalsky's grinning face.

"Neat, huh? Wish we'd had that when I was around." He reached out a hand which Jack considered momentarily before grasping. When he finally did he noted that there was nothing remotely non-corporeal about it, right down to the scars from the tattoo Kawalsky had had removed once he'd determined that "Sandra" really wasn't the girl of his dreams after all. It was too many years ago for even Jack to remember. When Kawalsky had pulled him to his feet, Jack looked around. The place looked familiar. He wasn't sure why.

"Chilly," he remarked finally, as it dawned on him that he was standing in a cave of ice. A diffused bluish cast from a distant overhead light made it difficult to see at first. After a bit, though, his eyes adjusted. Oh yeah. There was definitely something very familiar about this place.

A burst of static from a bundle of rags tucked in under a rock outcrop startled him. His hand went automatically for a weapon he didn't carry. Kawalsky, on the other hand, seemed unperturbed by the noise.

"You recognize the place?" his former 2IC asked.

"Should I?" Jack countered. There was something familiar about it, but he'd been to too many planets in his day and there wasn't a whole lot to distinguish one from another after a while.

"Oh yeah…though I can't say I'm surprised it doesn't ring a bell. I mean…you were pretty delirious most of the time." Kawalsky nodded toward the pile of clothes where the static burst had originated and for the first time Jack gave it more than a passing glance. There was a definite form to it, and as he studied it, a faint movement from beneath it: a barely perceptible rising and falling. Someone was under it, someone with slow, shallow breathing.

There was another burst of static. A radio. Jack heard a tinny voice coming over it…a voice he knew oh so well.

"Colonel…." A pause. More static. "It's an ice planet. That's all there is, as far as the eye can see…no chance." Static.

A few moments later the same voice echoed through the chamber.

"Colonel!!"

From somewhere distant and above there was the sound of something sliding. A grunt as it slammed into an obstacle. A rush of snow and a dark shaped slipped by him landing with a small cry of pain in the dusty snow at his feet. Jack jumped back, out of Sam's way, but she paid him no mind as she crawled toward the figure beneath the pile of rags.

"Colonel!" It was a half-whisper…a half-fearful plea.

"Sam…" Jack started toward her, but Kawalsky put a hand on his arm.

"She can't see you, Jack. It's not like we're really here. This is the past…one of the places you have to visit tonight…whether you want to our not."

A knot formed in Jack's gut and a horrid dread washed over him. Now he got it. He got it and he didn't like it.

"Not one of my favorite destination spots, I'll have you know!" he muttered. "And why, exactly, are we here?"

"Cuz you need to see some things," was all Kawalsky would say.

"And they would be…?"

Kawalsky nodded toward Sam who had crept over to where what Jack now knew to be his own half-frozen body lay on this god-forsaken chunk of ice.

"Colonel…."

God, he hated to hear that desperation in her voice. He was suddenly glad he'd been too out of it at the time. Even then it would have ripped his heart. He watched as she snaked her arm under the blanket, still trying to give him whatever heat she could. She snuggled her face into his neck, letting her breath warm him.

"Sarah…." The voice was weak, but the name unmistakable. Jack felt the pit of his stomach drop. Had he really said that? Called for his ex-wife? Sure, he'd been delusional…hallucinating…completely out of his mind…but why did he feel like he'd just watched himself betraying the woman he loved?

Sam, to her credit, didn't miss a beat. If anything, she drew herself closer, clung tighter.

"I'm here, Jack," she whispered back, and Jack swore he could feel her breath on his neck even as she said it to his own, inert form. An odd pain gripped his chest; he never knew she'd said that. Never remembered the first time his name had come from her lips. It was lost in the fog of his mind from that time. And for some reason watching it this way hurt like hell.

"I'm cold…so cold," the dying Jack O'Neill murmured. If it were possible, Sam snuggled closer

"I know…it's all right. You can sleep now." He watched as she buried her head in his neck and then paused, as if she just couldn't let loose those damn regulations even as they both hovered near death. "It was an honor serving with you too, Colonel," she added, glancing at him…the near-death him…one more time. And although he was standing ten feet away in the dimmest of lights in the darkest of caves, Jack could see as clearly as if he'd had a zoom lens on a sunlit afternoon. Sam Carter was in love with Jack O'Neill.

"Even then," remarked Kawalsky aloud, causing Jack to start. He glared at his guide.

"What?" asked Jack impatiently.

"She loved you. She'd have done anything to save you. She was ready to die for you…with you…it didn't matter. As long as the two of you were together."

Looking at Sam as she closed her eyes and held his freezing body, Jack was struck by how young she looked…how unaffected she still was by all that would come after this. But as beautiful as the woman was who lay dying next to him on the ice, he realized that the woman he'd held in his arms earlier that night—in his own time—in his own bed—possessed a far more appealing beauty than her younger self. It was _that_ Sam that he suddenly found himself longing for, very much.

"I guess I missed that," he said aloud, answering Kawalsky. "What with me being unconscious and all."

"Yeah. You missed a lot of things, Jack. Things you need to know."

There was another flash of light and that tingly Asgard feeling washed over him again. The dying Jack and Sam disappeared behind a veil and then vanished altogether. In their place Jack saw a bunch of SF's, weapons trained on him and Kawalsky, the familiar fixtures of the gate room their backdrop. Jack raised his arms in surrender, but off to his side he heard Kawalsky chuckle.

"They can't see you, Jack…remember?"

Behind him the metallic grinding sound of the iris opening caused him to turn. Sam, Teal'c and Daniel were backing their way through the gate, weapons trained on whatever world they had just left.

"Close the iris!" Sam called urgently. The giant metal lens spiraled shut. Suddenly Hammond was there, right behind Jack. He straightened out of force of habit and stepped out of the general's way.

"Report, Major!"

There was an urgency in Sam's voice Jack didn't hear very often. He'd learned to listen to it, though, because it usually meant there was something worth worrying about.

"We were attacked by several Jaffa. Lieutenant Tyler went down covering our six and Colonel O'Neill went back for him!" She explained, amazingly calm, Jack thought with pride, in spite of the fact that her voice was pitched a half-tone higher with concern.

Teal'c added his own insistence.

"Let's assemble a rescue team and return to the planet immediately, GeneralHammond."

Jack understood the confused look on Hammond's face. He remembered how this one went down, even if he had been trapped on the planet for most of it.

"Hold on …," interrupted the general, looking genuinely perplexed. "Who's Lieutenant Tyler?"

It was Daniel's turn now.

"What do you mean, who's Lieutenant Tyler? He's a member of SG-1." Jack couldn't help but notice the petulant tone of Daniel's voice. It had become all too familiar in those months before Daniel ascended.

"What?" Hammond again, still trying to figure it out. Now it was his team's turn to be annoyed.

"You assigned him yourself last month, sir," Daniel continued, speaking, Jack couldn't help but notice, to Hammond as one might explain something to a slightly forgetful grandfather. Sam jumped back in.

"Tyler, sir…we've been training him for weeks. This was his third mission," she pointed out, trying to sound respectful when what she really wanted to do, Jack knew, was to yell at Hammond for not remembering SG-1's fifth man.

The thing was, Hammond _didn't_ remember SG-1's fifth man.

"Major…I have no idea what you're talking about." Jack could see the confusion switching over to concern. He could relate, having walked a year or so in George's shoes. Having your flagship team come home talking about someone you knew didn't exist wasn't exactly how he liked to start his morning…although he couldn't speak for George.

As he risked a look back at Sam, Jack realized the confusion had spread. She glanced at Daniel and held his eyes, trying to figure out what had gone wrong.

Teal'c—gotta love the guy—was doggedly persistent.

"GeneralHammond, we must return to the planet immediately."

But Jack could tell that George wasn't going to budge on this. Hell, he wouldn't have either. Even if they were the three people he trusted most in the world.

"No one's going anywhere until I find out exactly what happened," replied Hammond with all the firmness he could imply without it being a direct order. Little good it did, though. Jack glanced at Sam and saw that it was all she could do to hold back the look of exasperation from her face. Still being a good soldier, though, she tried one more time.

"Lieutenant Tyler and Colonel O'Neill were cut off from the gate…I already told you, sir," she began, the edge of impatience creeping into her voice. Hammond cut her off.

"And I'm telling you, I've never heard of this Lieutenant Tyler!"

Time for Danny-boy to jump back in.

"How can you say that?" he began, ready to launch into a counter argument. Hammond wouldn't have any of it, though.

"I think you should report to the infirmary," he told them, a little more forcefully than before. Jack saw a twinge of panic cross Sam's face. Ouch. This had been only a couple of weeks after that whole "Ascended Orlin" incident. Reporting to the infirmary because someone didn't believe her was not going to sit well.

"Sir…there is nothing wrong with us!" she insisted, a tad more defiant than before.

"We'll leave that up to Dr. Frasier," Hammond told her. Sam's eye's threw darts at her CO.

"General…Jack is trapped on that planet!" Danny again. But Hammond was tiring of this discussion.

"Sergeant…"

A young SF moved forward; Sam, Jack noted, placed her hands protectively over her P90.

"…escort them to the infirmary."

Sam didn't budge. She glared…glared! at Hammond.

"With or without reinforcements, we _are_ going back, sir," she insisted, moving her weapon to a defensive stance. It did not go unnoticed by the general. The threat, whether implied or real, was enough for him. Jack was so stunned at seeing Sam on the verge of disobeying a direct order he could only gape.

"The hell you are!…relinquish your weapons."

The set of Sam's jaw told Jack she had absolutely no intention of obeying. Hammond must have realized it too. And it must have killed him to issue the next order:

"Airmen….:

Suddenly a half dozen semi-automatic weapons were trained on Sam and the rest of SG-1. Jack saw her run an assessing eye over the threat. Damn. She wasn't actually thinking she could take them all on, was she?

"Sam…" he said aloud. "Don't…."

"She can't…" Kawalsky began, but Jack cut him off.

"Hear me…I know…all right? I know! What the hell is she thinking?" Jack stifled the urge to step in front of her—to shield her from all those deadly barrels pointing in her direction.

"Major Carter," Hammond's voice was in dead earnest. "I will authorize the use of force unless you relinquish those weapons immediately."

"C'mon, Sam…stand down…." Jack couldn't help but mutter to himself.

Arrows shot from Sam's eyes, first to Hammond then to the rest of the airmen who half encircled her, Daniel and Teal'c. Her anger and frustration were palpable. Jack could read it all over her face. Finally, apparently deciding that there wasn't much getting accomplished this way, she lowered her weapon and reluctantly…very reluctantly, unhooked it from her vest. Even though he already knew how this would go down, he sighed with relief. Jack could never remember seeing a more insubordinate look on Sam's face--especially not directed at Hammond. Even after she had handed off her P90, she continued to glare at the general with a mixture of anger and betrayal, paying no heed to either of her two companions. Then, with a jerk of her shoulders to ward off any attempt at someone touching her, she stalked out of the gate room without a look backward.

"Whoa," said Kawalsky, as they watched the rest of the room clear. "Helluva spitfire, that one."

"Shut up, Kawalsky."

"What? I'm just sayin', Jack…she was about a half a heartbeat away from a court martial there. Hammond cut her a little more slack than most CO's would have. But I'm telling you…she was close…damn close."

"You know the drill, Kawalsky…no one gets left behind. That's all it was. She'd have been the same way if it were Daniel or Teal'c."

"You'd like to think that, wouldn't you?"

"What the hell does that mean?"

"I mean…it would be nice and easy for you if you just chalked what she did there up to being a good team member…a good 2IC. It would let you off the hook."

"And just what hook am I supposed to be on?"

"Sorry, Jack…that's for you to figure out. That's why we're here."

"Oh for cryin' out…Kawalsky! You're being as damn annoying as Jacob was! Come on…you guys know I don't get half the stuff people tell me straight-up, let alone all this deep-meaning crap. If you're here to help me, then help me…just…stop with the 'search your soul' bit, okay?"

Kawalsky shrugged.

"Suit yourself, Jack. It's your happiness we're talking about here. And Sam's. You want to just pack it in…."

"Now wait a minute…I didn't say that…"

Kawalsky grinned widely.

"Good!" he cut Jack off. "Cuz we've got one more stop to make."

Jack wasn't surprised this time when the Asgard beam scooped him up. He did close his eyes though and wondered where the hell they'd be when he opened them again.

Ruins. Well…that was helpful. Did anyone have any idea of how many damned ruins he'd seen in the past ten years? Probably Daniel did, now that he thought of it. And probably he could name, on sight, each and every one.

As the sense of sudden displacement faded and he had a moment to study the ruins, Jack realized he did know this particular site. He hadn't recognized it at first because it had been distinctly lacking the equipment that now invaded the nooks and crannies of it and the piles of crates that several SGC personnel were moving around. That geekiest of geeks, Dr. Lee, was hovering like a nervous humming bird, pointing at various boxes and issuing vague admonitions about being careful, not dropping, and other totally useless suggestions.

The crunching of stones under a boot tread made Jack turn around in time to see Sam, hot, tired, looking a little lacking in the sleep department, come up out of the surrounding brush and walk over to Teal'c.

"I covered as much territory as the range of the UAV will allow," she told him wearily, glancing about at the activity.

"Have you received word from the Tok'ra?" Teal'c asked.

Sam was momentarily distracted again by the movement around her.

"Yeah…they responded…and said they didn't know when one of their operatives with a ship would be able to help us…." She looked over her shoulder again. "What are they doing?"

Teal'c's face revealed not one trace of emotion.

"I believe they have completed their analysis."

Jack saw the look of disbelief on Sam's face. She made a beeline for Dr. Lee.

"Excuse me…where is Colonel O'Neill? Now I don't see him, do you? Did you guys _find_ him while I was gone?"

Lee was obviously taken aback by Sam's head-on assault, but to the little guy's credit, he stood his ground.

"We've been for here a week…now I'm not sure, but I'm pretty certain we could all spend the rest of our natural lives trying to figure out how this thing works. But you know what? Even if I could snap my fingers and turn it on right now, I'm beginning to doubt whether it would determine where it sent Colonel O'Neill…I'd bet almost anything that the targeting data is in the artifact that Colonel Maybourne used to open that doorway."

Lee turned to get back to the matter of packing…but Sam wasn't about to let it go. With anger so barely contained that Jack could see her shaking, she all but shouted:

"I say when we're done here!"

Lee stopped dead in his tracks and his face reddened. Turning once more to Sam, who was at least a head taller than he was, he pulled himself up to his full height.

"With all due respect..._Major_…" If it had been anyone but Sam the guy had been talking to Jack would have been impressed by his snippy tone. "I will submit my report to General Hammond. If he's prepared to commit to a long-term analysis project, I'm happy to come back… with my big suitcase. But until then… if you'll excuse me."

And with that Lee gave Sam his back a second time and returned to his crates.

Sam stood there, speechless. Jack could see her breaths coming in short bursts as she tried to control herself. Finally she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before turning in the opposite direction and striding purposefully away.

"Come on, Teal'c." she muttered as she brushed by him. Jack had been watching the big guy as well…he'd been taking in every word of the exchange between Sam and Dr. Lee, and Jack couldn't help but notice that he seemed to be processing Sam's reaction.

"Where are we going, MajorCarter?" he asked, quickly matching her stride. Jack saw Sam throw a glance over her shoulder in the general direction of the scientists.

"We're going to talk to General Hammond. I want to see just how big a suitcase Dr. Lee has."

With that they were out of earshot.

"Hammond said 'no" of course. They declared you MIA," commented Kawalsky as Jack watched the familiar forms shrink in the distance.

"Don't remind me. A whole month in 'Utopia" with Maybourne and a bunch of paranoia-inducing goa'uld arugula."

"She missed you."

"Yeah. Teal'c told me."

"Oh…right. The master of over-statement. 'MajorCarter despaired of ever seeing you again.' I'm sure that told you everything you needed to know."

"Hey…for T, that was saying a lot."

Kawalsky smirked at him.

"What?

"You're just as bad as he is, you know."

Jack shrugged.

"It's a guy thing."

"No…it's a _you_ thing, Jack. Always has been. I was there for the worst of it, don't forget."

Jack felt an uneasy twist in the pit of his gut.

"Hey…you didn't say anything about going back that far…."

Kawalsky looked hurt.

"I wouldn't do that to you, Jack. I swear it. I'm just saying…you keep things bottled up. You don't tell people how you feel…bad stuff or good stuff. Everybody's got to guess…try to read between your feigned stupidity and your casual disregard. And sometimes we get it wrong. Sam did. For a long time, she figured you had taken yourself out of the picture. It hurt her. And you damn near lost her, Jack. She nearly slipped through your fingers."

A different knot tied itself up in Jack's stomach.

"Yeah. I know."

"Well…20/20 hindsight…it's a wonderful thing. You do get this, don't you? I mean…you play dumb so often, Jack, sometimes I think you get a little too into the part. I've shown you these things to help you understand…Sam would do anything…_anything_…for you. Then. Now. A hundred years from now. She'd give up her life…her career…the respect of her colleagues…whatever it took. She loves you that much. It's a great gift to be loved that much. And a great burden."

"Hey…I…you know…I feel the same way about her."

Kawalsky was shaking his head.

"You can't even say it, can you? Not even to me."

"What?" Jack tossed back at him, although he knew exactly what Kawalsky meant.

"That's bull, Jack. You know what I'm talking about."

"She knows how I feel."

"Does she?"

"Of course."

That stomach knot was tightening, though. Some of what Kawalsky was saying was hitting pretty close to home. What if she didn't know? What if he just assumed she did?

"Yeah…" Kawalsky was leaning against the ruin wall now…right at the spot where Maybourne had used that damn key. Jack flashed back to Harry grabbing Sam's zat and taking her out with it. Even if it was only a zat…even if the first blast only hurt like hell and wasn't lethal…that act of Harry's had sent Jack into a blind and barely contained rage. And that's what had made him fly at Maybourne like that…diving as the fink made his escape through that archway. No one took out his 2IC…no one took out _Sam_ and got away with it. For Jack it had been simple justice. "Well, I'm just sayin'" Kawalsky continued. "_Those_ words…and the actions that go with them…they may seem simple, but they're not."

"Tell me something I don't know…," muttered Jack. Kawalsky arched an eyebrow.

"We're trying, Jack. But you've got to be willing to listen. You go all stubborn on us and all of this will be for nothing."

"Yeah. I hear you." Jack saw a flicker of doubt pass over Kawalsky's face. "I said I heard you, okay?" he repeated, unable to keep a note of agitation out of his voice. "So…where to now?" he added in what he hoped was a lighter tone.

"No where…at least not for me. My time's up, Jack. I've brought you as far as I can."

Jack looked around. There was still the bustle of activity as Dr. Lee and the others continued their packing up.

"Do I at least get to go back to bed?" he asked archly. Kawalsky gave him a half smile. "Riiiight." Jack went on, slowly nodding. "So…do I just hang out here in the past and wait for a solar flare or what?"

Kawalsky's smiled broadened into a full one.

"Bye, Jack. It's been good seeing you, pal. Good luck with…well, with everything."

Jack found his throat uncharacteristically tight. Kawalsky was doing that Jacob-transparent thing again. He was really beginning to hate watching people he'd liked disappear like that. Too many of them had disappeared for good.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Jack looked around. The people of the past had vanished too and the ruins were empty…except for himself. A horrible feeling of isolation washed over him. If this was a dream it was a damn realistic one. And if it wasn't….

"Damn it, Kawalsky…you'd better not have left me alone in this god-forsaken place."

"Don't worry, sir. He didn't."

The voice was familiar. So familiar that it simultaneously made him feel both relieved and sucker-punched. Jack closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Yeah. He should have figured this one out.

"Hey, Doc," he said, slowly turning around. Yep. It was her all right. All five-foot nothing of her. Eyes dancing with amusement and that slightly lop-sided smile on her face. It was her genuine smile…not the one she plastered on when she was trying to deliver bad news in a not-so-bad way.

"It's good to see you, General," replied Janet. Jack didn't know why, but he'd been expecting to see her wearing her white lab coat. It took a moment to reconcile that expectation with the fact that she was in standard issue green camo BDUs. That funny feeling in his throat returned, but he swallowed it down and went for glib.

"So…who are you supposed to be…the ghost of Christmas Present?" he asked her. The smile dimmed a bit.

"Actually, more like the future," she told him. Jack put on is best disappointed face.

"What…no present?"

"Not this time, General."

"So…" Jack mused. "We talking way, far future, here? Cuz, if we are…"

Janet shook her head.

"I guess I'd consider it more of the near future, sir. The _very_ near future. Because to be blunt, sir…if things don't change in the near future, then there really isn't much point in looking too far ahead."

Jack felt a shiver go down his spine.

"You know, you're scaring me, Doc," he told her, trying to muster up a joke to battle back the dread he was beginning to feel. Frasier wasn't the type to be overly dramatic. Which made her words all that much more chilling.

"Good," she answered, fixing him with that piercing look he remembered too well. "That's the reason I'm here."

"Ahhh…well…all things considered, I guess I'd rather it be you than some others I can think of. I was half-expecting something in a dark hood and sporting a really deep voice."

That one fell flat too. Not even a twitch from Frasier. Oh yeah. He was so screwed.

"Look, General…just because I'm a familiar face, that doesn't mean that I'm going to pull any punches. There's a future out there you probably aren't going to like, but you need to see."

"I know…." Jack sighed. "It's for my own well-being…my own happiness, blah, blah, blah. Jacob gave me the whole run-down. I think I've got it."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that, sir. You're still missing a few pieces of this puzzle."

"Really. And I thought everything had been so crystal clear up til now." He couldn't help the edge of sarcasm that crept into his voice.

Frasier gave him one more appraising look.

"Are you ready, then?" she asked him.

Hell, no…but it wasn't like he had a choice. So he plastered on one of his goofy grins and said:

"Lead on, Doc."

By now the sensation was familiar. Jack didn't even bother to shut he eyes this time. Which was a good thing, he decided, as he found himself very cozily wedged in a corner of a bathroom…Sam's bathroom to be exact…which wasn't very large to begin with and now held both him and Frasier as well as its two original occupants: Sam, wearing the bathrobe he'd given her last Christmas, and himself.

Whoa. Definitely needed to get some new boxers, there.

"I've got a briefing with Hank at 0900 and then I'm off," Boxer Jack explained, wiping his face and putting his toothbrush back in the cup. Jack saw Sam nod. She looked…something. He couldn't put his finger on it.

"We don't leave until tomorrow now," she replied. "Landry called…he wants to make sure we've analyzed all the MALP and UAV data before we head out. We don't want to find any nasty Ori surprises waiting for us."

"Yeah. You know, these Ancients and Ascended Beings are getting to be a royal pain in the ass. It makes my head hurt trying to keep up with their damn rules."

Jack watched as a thin, strained smile tugged at Sam's lips. His other self missed it.

"The Go'auld—now, they were predictable." Boxer Jack was rambling on. "Giant egos. Cecile B. DeMille wardrobes. Enough eye make-up to make Tammy-Faye proud. You could count on them every time."

When Sam didn't respond, Boxer Jack glanced at her in the mirror. "There's something wrong," Jack murmured. "Ask her."

"I'm sorry, sir…did you say something?" Frasier asked him.

"Nothin'," he replied, wanting to study Sam more closely

"You okay?" Jack heard his future self ask…finally.

Sam did a horrible job at bluffing. It was why she was notoriously bad at poker.

"Me? Yeah. Why?"

Boxer Jack shrugged.

"Nothing. You just seem a little, I don't know. Un-Sam like."

"I could rattle off some Quantum Theory for you, if you like." It was a half-hearted attempt. Jack thought Sam looked unusually pale. Funny…he didn't recall ever looking at her quite so carefully as he was now. He felt irritation at the other guy in the room who seemed not to notice that there was something more going on with her.

"No—thanks." Damn but he was glib. "I already have a headache at the prospect of spending several days in the company of Woolsey, not to mention their high and mightinesses, the Ancients."

Jack saw himself wait for Sam's indulgent smile; when it didn't come a flicker of concern passed over his face, but a moment later it was gone. In its place was that look of practiced nonchalance it had taken him years to perfect.

"As far as I'm concerned, Daniel ought to be the one taking this little trip…not me," the other Jack continued. "He's got these guys all figured out. Hell…he's even been one of them, in a manner of speaking. But I guess fear-mongering, fanatical ascended aliens bent on galactic annihilation trump a bunch of ten-thousand year old ingrates, so Danny gets to go with you."

Jack watched as Sam fought back whatever it was that had been bothering her. He saw himself glance at her surreptitiously too, checking.

"Ask her…idiot! She won't tell you if you don't." Jack couldn't help the outburst.

"How do you figure that?" Frasier asked him. He'd almost forgotten she was there, he'd been so busy studying the pair in front of him.

"Cuz she's as bad as I am. All those…feelings…they make her uncomfortable. Like she's got a chink in her armor and someone's going to figure it out." He glanced at Frasier who was looking at him with an unabashed look of astonishment.

"What?" he asked her, not meaning for it to come out as irritably as it sounded.

"Nothing…well, it's just…okay, I guess I didn't expect you to say something quite so…." Frasier's voice trailed off.

"Perceptive? Insightful?" Jack offered.

"Honestly?…yes."

"Ahh. Well…I wouldn't worry about it…I'm sure it was just a momentary aberration."

He turned back to his other self…but not before catching the odd look on Frasier's face. Yeah. He wasn't sure where his observation had come from either. But he knew he was right. If Boxer Jack didn't goad her into telling him, Sam wouldn't say a word.

"Anyway," the other Jack pushed on. "I guess I'll just have to wing it with Woolsey by myself, pain in the mikta that he is." He cast one more look in Sam's direction. "You sure you're okay?"

Sam's smile was forced.

"Yeah. It's…nothing. I had a bad dream last night, is all. I'm fine. Any chance you can talk the Ancients into letting us send a contingent back into the city?" Sam asked, changing the topic. The moment had passed. He'd been right. They were just going to let it go. Both of them. He had an overwhelming urge to go slap some sense into both of them.

"Time for a change of venue, General," Frasier interrupted his thoughts. Jack sighed. Boxer Jack and Sam were talking shop now. Whatever had been bothering Sam about the dream, she'd buried it and moved on, but Jack couldn't help but notice a distinct sadness on her face.

"Yeah. Sure. Whatever," he answered. He turned toward Frasier. "Does she ever tell him what was bugging her?"

The doctor shook her head.

"No. In a few minutes they'll head off to the SGC in separate cars. You'll gate to Atlantis and tomorrow Sam will head off-world with SG-1. They ran out of time."

There was something about the way Frasier said that last sentence that left Jack with an unsettled feeling, but before he could ask her about it, the transporter grabbed him and the bathroom swirled to nothingness.

One Asgard beam-ride later, Jack found himself looking around at the empty gate room. The gate was active and it's giant puddle shimmered, casting a blue light all around the rest of the darkened room. A glance at the Control Room and the Briefing Room showed dark, empty windows. There was an absolute silence to the place that he'd never experienced in real life before. Yep. He was pretty sure they weren't in Kansas any more.

"A little quiet," he commented, completing his visual sweep of the room. "But I love the ambience. Where'd everyone go?"

"You're not really at the SGC, General. We're actually inside your mind."

"You can do that?" he asked. Frasier gave a half-shrug that answered "yes". Jack looked around again.

"Roomy, aint it?" he remarked. He watched for her reaction out of the corner of his eye, but instead of a smile, a dark look momentarily crossed her face. "So…aside from learning that there's not a whole lot going on in here…why are we here?"

"Because of this," Frasier replied, indicating something behind Jack. He whirled and saw two people now standing on the ramp behind him. One was a young man he did not recognize; the other was himself, looking a little wet and bedraggled.

"Whatcha doin'?" the Other Jack asked. The younger man smiled.

"Probing your mind."

Damn. Replicators.

"Kinda roomy, aint it?" smirked Other Jack. Jack felt himself wince. No wonder Frasier had looked at him funny.

"Not so empty as you would have me believe, I think," remarked the Replicator. "Or so carefully constructed. There is a weakness…ah. Here, I think…."

Other Jack's hands flew to his temples in pain. The room fritzed out for a moment and Jack saw they were standing in Sam's lab at the SGC. She was looking at yet another version of himself, her eyes glistening.

_What about you…if things had been different…._

…_I wouldn't be here…._

The room fritzed again. More gray walls. Sam and he conspiratorially off to one side.

_Sir…none of this has to leave this room…_

_We're okay with that…?_

Another shift. The engine room of a cargo ship.

_Sir… at your house, before Daniel and Teal'c showed up…what I was going to say was…._

_I know._

And another. His deck.

_The thing is…the closer it gets the more I get the feeling that I'm making a big, huge mistake…_

…_look, Carter…I don't know…._

Flash. Sam's bathroom.

_You sure you're okay?_

_Yeah. It's…nothing. I had a bad dream last night, is all. I'm fine._

"Regrets, General?" They were back in the shimmering gate room. Jack shifted his weight to regain his equilibrium. That had been one hell of a fast ride. The replicator was smirking at Other Jack whose hands were still pressed to his temples. "This human emotion you call love…a source of great strength...and yet also, oddly, a great weakness, especially when combined with this regret. I see in your case we won't have any problems extracting the information we need. Ahh…so the Daedelus is on its way here to destroy the city—on your orders, no less. And…your rescue party is already concealed somewhere in the city. Doubtless they hope to extract you and Mr. Woolsey before we are destroyed. Thank you, General. You have been most helpful. As I'm sure you will continue to be in the future."

"Go to hell!" growled Other Jack, his eyes still half closed fighting off the pain. The replicator merely offered an eerily bland smile.

"Then perhaps that is where we will visit next time, you and I," it replied, coldly.

Jack turned to Frasier.

"What the hell just happened?" he demanded. She looked up at him, her bright eyes glistening in the shimmering of the event horizon. He'd seen her look that way a hundred times, whenever she had to give news she hated to give, yet had to, as dispassionately as possible.

"The replicator was able to probe your thoughts, sir. He now knows everything you know."

"When is this? On my next trip to Atlantis?"

Frasier shook her head.

"I can't tell you that, General. It's the future. It's fluid. A great many factors could affect…"

Jack cut her off.

"Yeah, yeah…I get it. Against the cosmic rules or something. Fine. What was that crap about regret though?"

"The mind is a curious thing, sir. I won't pretend I understand even a fraction of it. But its ability to withstand the type of assault made on it by a replicator may be as much a function of the subconscious as the conscious."

"So in my subconscious I, what? Have regrets?"

"It's possible. Considering the images the replicator summoned up…."

No need to talk about those.

"Okay. Fine. Sure. So I have regrets. Who doesn't? But you're telling me that's why I gave it up to the replicators?"

Frasier sighed. She was looking more and more like she did when she had news she didn't want to deliver. Jack's gut was starting to churn a warning. He knew he was really, _really_ going to hate this.

"Sometimes, sir, certain…unresolved issues in our lives can make us vulnerable to illness. It's an aspect of science that's not well understood…but people who suffer emotional trauma or even just stressful life events often find they fall ill within a relatively short time frame afterward. Somehow it lowers the body's defense mechanism. The nanoprobes of the replicator could react in the same way…sensing those vulnerabilities and exploiting them."

"So…what are you saying…just because he…I mean, I…we…didn't try to ask Sam what was wrong back there at the house, the Replicators are going to be able to take over Atlantis?"

Frasier crossed her arms and was giving him that 'you figure it out' look.

"I think the bigger question, sir, is _why_ didn't you ask Sam what was wrong?"

Yeah. That had been bugging him too. Especially since it was so obvious that there was more going on there than just a bad dream.

"Face it, sir…something held you back. Something always holds you back, even with Sam."

Jack winced. Ouch. Frasier wasn't pulling her punches, she had been right about that.

"So…that whole regret thing, huh?" he ventured.

The doctor shrugged.

"You tell me."

Jack sighed.

"Yeah…somehow I knew you were going to say that. Look…I know…I'm not good with this stuff. In fact, I'm really, really bad at it. But it doesn't mean I don't care. I do. I care a helluva lot."

"So…have you told her?"

"What?"

"That you care. That you love her."

"Yeah. Sure. I mean…I guess so. It's not like she doesn't know it."

Frasier just looked at him. He hadn't been given that withering a look since Sister Mary Henry had stared him down in the fourth grade for daring to suggest that he hadn't done his homework because an angel had warned him not to. He realized his excuse this time was just about as believable.

"I guess maybe I need to have a talk with Sam about a few things," he murmured, as much to himself as to Frasier.

"I think you need to have a talk with yourself first. There's a reason you're really bad at this, sir…and it has nothing to do with your ability to communicate," Frasier told him pointedly. "Just what is it you're afraid of?"

Whoa. That one came out of left field. It left Jack scrambling for an answer.

What was he afraid of? Besides being old and alone? Besides losing someone he loved all over again? Besides the images of things he'd seen and done that plagued his dreams more often than not? Besides discovering that Sam didn't love him nearly as much as he loved her?

Whoa again.

Frasier smiled slightly, knowingly.

"She loves you, sir. More than you'll ever know. She always has, and she always will. I think you understand that now."

Yeah. He did. Kawalsky had shown him that.

"We need to go now, General…we're running out of time," Frasier interrupted his thoughts. He blinked at her.

"Huh?" was about as intelligent a reply as he could make before the beam grabbed him and yanked him one more time.

Landry's office. With Hank himself seated at the desk that used to be his. The one he could never find the key to. Sam was there too…looking oddly rumpled, a blanket clutched around her shoulders.

"Really, sir. I'm fine. Just a little chilled. There's not a lot of heat in the elevator shaft. But Dr. Lam has cleared me for duty."

"Dr. Lam may have cleared you, Colonel, but I'm telling you…."

There was a tap at the door and they both turned. Chief Harriman stood nervously in the doorway, a piece of paper in his hand. Jack could have sworn that hand was shaking, ever so slightly.

"What is it, Chief?" Landry asked. Walter gave an uncomfortable glance at Sam before speaking.

"We just received word from the Daedalus, sir." He cleared his throat nervously and read from the paper. "Colonel Caldwell reports that the nuclear device was able to successfully penetrate the Atlantean shields and at 0949 Central Standard Time, the city of Atlantis was completely destroyed. A scan of the planet indicated no life signs. Major General Jack O'Neill, Richard Woolsey, Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, Dr. Rodney McKay, Dr. Elizabeth Weir and Dr. Carson Beckett are all presumed dead."

Jack watched in horror as Sam closed her eyes and swayed slightly. Her hands grasped the edge of Landry's desk for support as the color drained completely from her face. Landry made a slight movement, as if to rise, but a second later her eyes opened and she steadied herself.

"Thank you, Chief. Dismissed," Landry said quietly. As Walter turned to leave Jack heard him murmur, under his breath:

"Sorry, Ma'am."

When he'd gone Landry turned his full attention on Sam. His eyes were filled with sympathy, Jack noted. Sam continued to stare at the desk, her head down.

"Colonel…Sam…I'm sorry. If there'd been any other way…."

Sam raised red-rimmed eyes and gave Landry a cold, hard look.

"Yes, sir. Permission to return to my quarter's, General."

Something passed between them, something Jack didn't understand, but the look on Sam's face scared the hell out of him. It was a look he'd seen on his own face once—in the mirror in Charlie's bedroom on the day that might very well have been his last had there not been a fortuitous knock on the door.

Landry looked like he wanted to say more, but thought better of it. Instead, he nodded and said:

"Certainly, Colonel. Dismissed. Please…try to get some rest."

Straightening her shoulders in a gesture that went like a bullet to Jack's heart she walked out of the office and closed the door behind her. As she left Landry heaved a sigh that seemed to come from deep within.

"Doc…what was that about…I think I missed something," Jack turned to Frasier.

"When Dr. McKay and the others defied orders and commandeered a puddle jumper to rescue you and Mr. Woolsey, General Landry had to turn to someone else to figure out how to get a nuke around Atlantis' shields."

A sickening feeling swept over him.

"Not Sam…."

Frasier looked mournful.

"She was the only one with enough smarts to figure it out. But it was your order, sir. It had to be carried out, and she knew it."

God…no wonder she looked like she did.

"What was with…" he began, wondering about the elevator, but the doctor cut him off.

"I'm sorry, sir…really…time is getting short…there's one more stop we have to make."

The beam clutched him again and Landry's office dissolved into a room that looked like a cross between a library and a high-tech gadget room. The first thing Jack's tactical eye saw was the unmoving body of an Ori soldier. He seemed quite dead. A table held what looked like three naquadah generators, at least one of which also looked dead. Wires ran to a laptop which glowed with incomprehensible data...and that damned phase-shifting thingy of Merlin's was there too. A sound behind him made Jack turn…only to see Sam, lying on a make-shift cot, paler even than when he'd seen her a few moments earlier. She had an unhealthy gray pallor about her lips and her eyes were closed. Mitchell was sitting next to her fumbling in the med kit for something. He drew out a hypo of what Jack presumed to be morphine and lifting the blanket jammed it into Sam's leg. She hardly flinched. It was then that he saw the mess on the floor…a pool of blood…gauzes and bandages, also brown with dried blood. Empty vials of whatever antibiotic was standard issue look kicked out of the way. Jack felt the blood drain from his own face and his ears buzzed slightly.

"Sam…" he started toward her, but Frasier gently put a hand on his arm as a reminder. Yeah. He wasn't really here.

Coulda fooled him.

"C'mon, Sam. Hang in there. Don't you dare give up on me," Mitchell was muttering. He reached over and gently turned Sam's ashen face toward him. Her eyes fluttered open. "Hey there, you…" he cajoled. "Stay with me, Sam. Don't do this to me. I finally get the band back together only to go and lose Jackson. I won't lose you too."

Sam closed her eyes and with seemingly great effort shook her head.

"Can't fight anymore, Cam," she whispered through parched lips. "Don't want to. Hurts too much."

"I just gave you another shot of morphine…it'll take a couple of minutes to kick in."

Jack saw Sam try to smile. It broke his heart.

"Won't help," she said. "Not where I hurt."

"Oh," Cam replied soberly, understanding. "Listen to me, Sam. He wouldn't want you to give up like this. He'd want you to keep fighting it—to live. We'll make it to the gate, Sam, I promise. You just have to do your part."

Sam tried to shake her head again but started coughing. Blood appeared at the corner of her mouth. Never a good sign.

When the spasms had stopped she looked like she'd disappeared by about half.

"Laptop," she managed to say.

"You want the laptop?" Cam asked, making a move to get it. Sam shook her head "no".

"Files," she got out. "In my personal directory. Password is 'Fishing'. Letters…Cassie…some other people. Delete…delete the one to Jack. No one sees it. Shoulda done it before. Couldn't."

"Aww…now see…you're going to have to change that password when you get back…cuz I'm not doing that Sam…you're going to make it. I can't order you…but I can damn well strongly suggest it."

She reached out a hand and laid it on Mitchell's arm, forcing him to meet her eyes.

"Let me go, Cam." It came out clearer than anything else she'd struggled to say. "Please. I'm so tired. And I miss him so much. Just…let me go."

She closed her eyes and didn't move. Cam watched her for a second and then buried his head in his hands.

"Dammit!" the young man cursed quietly. "Dammit all to hell."

Jack couldn't move. He felt like someone had ripped his heart out and stuck a knife through it a hundred thousand times. It hurt like hell to even breathe. Finally he managed to look at Frasier. Tears were streaming down her face.

"Tell me this doesn't have to happen," he pleaded in a hoarse whisper. "Tell me I can change this. I won't go to Atlantis tomorrow. I'll warn them about the Replicators. I won't order the city destroyed…."

"You can do whatever you want, General," Frasier replied, wiping her face and looking up at him. "You could do all of those things…but those aren't the things that are going to make a difference here. Those are merely events. Change one and they still fall, like dominoes. There's only one way to change what you've seen here. And only you know what that is."

Jack looked again at Sam. He had done this. Somehow, he had done this. She had given him everything she had from the very beginning and he had given her…nothing. Not even really told her that he loved her…that his universe revolved around her…that the happiest day of his life was when she'd stood in his back yard and confessed her doubts about Shanahan…that he couldn't wait to see her when they'd been apart…that he died a little every time she went through the gate without him…that holding her in his arms at night and waking up beside her in the morning was more happiness than someone like him ever deserved to have…that he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life by her side, growing old together, watching their grandchildren play in the Minnesota snow.

"Time to go home, General."

Frasier's voice brought Jack back to the scene in front of him. He would change this. He had to change this.

And now, he realized, he knew how.

"Sure, Doc. Whenever," he replied, distracted. He hoped he wasn't too late. _God…just don't let me be too late._

Frasier was going all transparent on him, just like Kawalsky…just like Jacob. The room about him shimmered. Grieving Mitchell and Sam's body blurred like runny paint and the light faded away to blackness. The dark, desolate blackness of night.

And he was in his own bed. The warmth of Sam's sleeping body next to him assured him of the fact that she was really there…alive…oblivious.

Not too late after all.

His eyes scanned the room hoping to find some trace of Frasier still hovering. He wanted to thank her. But there was no sign of her or Kawalsky or Jacob. The room was relentlessly dark. Not a ghost in sight.

Staring into the nothingness, Jack began to make plans.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"I've got a briefing with Hank at 0900 and then I'm off," Jack explained, wiping his face and putting his toothbrush back in the cup. In the mirror Jack saw Sam nod. She looked tired.

"We don't leave until tomorrow now," she replied. "Landry called…he wants to make sure we've analyzed all the MALP and UAV data before we head out. We don't want to find any nasty Ori surprises waiting for us."

"Yeah. You know, these Ancients and Ascended Beings are getting to be a royal pain in the ass. It makes my head hurt trying to keep up with their damn rules."

Jack glanced at Sam but she seemed not to have responded. Fine. Time to go for a slightly more over-the-top comment.

"The Go'auld—now, they were predictable. Giant egos. Cecile B. DeMille wardrobes. Enough eye make-up to make Tammy-Faye proud. You could count on them every time."

Still no response from Sam. Not like he was surprised.

"You okay?" Jack asked, trying not to let her know that he was worried sick in the pit of his gut.

He could tell she was trying to sound nonchalant.

"Me? Yeah. Why?"

Jack shrugged.

"Nothing. You just seem a little, I don't know. Un-Sam like."

"I could rattle off some Quantum Theory for you, if you like," she shot back. A little too quickly, Jack thought. He glanced at her again and thought she looked as though she was about to become physically ill. He tried for light, one more time.

"No—thanks. I already have a headache at the prospect of spending several days in the company of Woolsey, not to mention their high and mightinesses, the Ancients."

He glanced at her again, hoping to see a glimmer of a smile, but if possible, she looked even worse than before. Okay. Enough of this crap. He had to know what was going on with her. because if he had to, he'd step in and pull her off this damn mission. He didn't know why, but he knew that this was the turning point right here. Whatever happened, would happen because of what he chose to do right now.

"Hey…." he asked quietly, letting her know that he had set all joking aside now. "What's wrong?"

Sam just shook her head. Words, it seemed, would not come.

"Sam?" He was going to insist. None of this keep-it-to-yourself, suck-it-up crap anymore. "What's up?"

He took her arm and turned her toward him. She resisted at first, but then gave in. Her arms were around his neck and she held him so tightly that he thought she would never let go.

"Hey," he said, starting to ask again, but really, at the moment it didn't matter what was wrong. It only mattered that they hold one another. So he gathered her to him and held her, waiting.

Finally, she broke from him and stepped back. He grasped her hands and held them against his chest, not wanting to let her go completely. Images of the night before swirled in his mind. He would hold on to her. He would hold on to her as long as he possibly could.

"It's silly, really," she managed, giving a slight laugh that sounded a lot more like a sob.

"Yeah. I can see that," he replied quietly. Sam gestured futilely.

"I just can't seem to shake the feeling that you going to Atlantis is a really, really bad idea. Ridiculous, huh?" She tried a little laugh again. This one came out better. Jack didn't smile. A cold fear was creeping over him.

"Ridiculous," he repeated, somberly. Maybe it was too late. Maybe nothing he did now would matter anyway. "Sam…."

"I know…" she interrupted. "I _know_. I go through the Stargate every day where there's a heck of a lot more dangerous things going on than a bunch of ten-thousand year old people reclaiming their lost city. And we both know that one of these days the odds are probably going to catch up with one of us…"

"Sam…."

"And we both knew the risks when we got ourselves into this…." 

"Sam…."

"But if anything happened to you…." her voice trailed off and the look she gave him told him exactly what losing him would do to her.

Like he didn't already know.

"C'mere," he replied, taking her into his arms again, burying his face in her neck. God, how he wanted to change this. To stop right now and take her back to bed, make love to her and hold her and let the rest of the damn galaxy go on without them. But the one thing he'd realized as he'd lain awake after what Frasier had shown him last night, was that she was right. Events were events. If he didn't go to Atlantis they'd never know about the Replicator threat. Atlantis was the gateway to Earth. He couldn't let those damn bugs back here, no matter what the cost. There was no standing order to nuke the city in case something like this happened…but there would be by the time he left for the Pegasus Galaxy that morning. Still. There had to be a way to change the future he'd seen. Frasier had told him there was, and he trusted her.

He kissed Sam. Maybe this would be for the last time; maybe not. God, he hoped not. But if it was, he wanted to remember it. The hunger of her lips, the feel of her hand on his cheek, the warmth and softness of her body. How she smelled. How she tasted. Things he'd never paid that close attention to before he seared into his mind. He needed to know them. To remember them. They would be his strength when the time came.

o-o-o-o

She had run back for one more thing before they left the house. It was now or never. He was running out of time. She looked up at him and flashed him a smile as she tucked the missing folder into her briefcase. Okay. Now.

"Sam…you know…you're not the only one who worries."

So, maybe not the most eloquent opening. Still, he could tell it had taken her by surprise. She smiled again.

"I know," she answered, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. Great. Now when he was trying to be serious she was the one who was treading lightly.

"And, uh…" he winced a little and studied the floor. Why couldn't he just feel what he wanted to say and she'd understand? Words were too damn hard. "If anything ever happened to you…."

He risked a glance. Okay…that had gotten her attention. Her eyes were welling with tears.

"I'd have Mitchell's ass," he concluded. Damn it! He could have kicked himself. The most important thing he needed to say and he just couldn't stop the smartass stuff. Maybe Frasier was right. Maybe he was afraid.

Yeah. Well. He'd never let fear stop him before. At least not when it really mattered.

And this really mattered.

Still, Sam was grinning. She'd actually laughed.

"Should I tell him that?" she asked lightly.

"I already have," Jack replied, recalling a little aside he'd had with Mitchell on one of his visits to the SGC shortly after Sam had returned to SG-1. Sam never knew, and if the look on her face were any indication, she still didn't believe him.

But he was running out of time. When Sam reached over to pick her keys off the entryway table he intercepted her hand.

"I'd die," he said simply, his eyes dark and serious meeting her own. From the look she gave him, she understood. There was no kidding now. No light-hearted joking. He meant it. And she knew he meant it.

"Me too," she replied quietly, holding his gaze for a few more moments.

"So—be careful, huh?" he told her, letting her hand go.

"Yeah. You too." Her voice was quiet, restrained.

Neither of them moved.

"See you in about a week, then," said Jack. No! He screamed at himself. Do it! Time is up!

Sam nodded, but still seemed unable to walk away.

"I suppose we should…go?" he asked. He couldn't separate his eyes from hers. God, they were beautiful. He burned them into his memory too. Just in case.

"They hate it when you're late," she replied, still rooted to the spot.

"Yeah, I know. Did I mention that I love you?"

There. He'd said it. Said it out loud. And now she knew.

He could see Sam catch her breath. Yeah…she sure hadn't seen that one coming.

"Wow," she replied, stunned. "That's…that's…."

"Not what you expected?" he offered. A wonderful relief flowed over him. He'd said it. Now things would be different. Maybe. But even if they weren't, he'd have no regrets. There was nothing left unspoken anymore. Except maybe one more thing.

"Yeah…" she said, still looking as if she couldn't believe she had heard him right.

Jack nodded. It was easier now. So easy he couldn't believe he hadn't done it before.

"So. Marry me."

The look on her face was priceless. Another memory. Another brick in that replicator-proof wall. 

"What?"

Jack froze a moment. A fissure of doubt appeared in his mind. It had never occurred to him. What if she said no?

Jack found himself studying the floor again.

"Look, I'm really horrible at this stuff," he confessed. Taking a deep breath and looking up at her, he tried one more time. "I love you. Will you marry me?"

He wasn't sure how to read the reaction on her face now. Part shock…part bemusement…part…he swallowed hard. Was it maybe pity?

"You ask me _now_?" Okay. Maybe more disbelief than pity. Jack relaxed a little and shrugged.

"Is there a better time?" He went for disingenuous. It worked. A huge grin spread across Sam's face as she shook her head in obvious disbelief. Jack let out the breath he realized he'd been holding. That had gone…okay. Especially the part where she was stepping over to him and kissing him. Again. This time on the lips. For a very, very, _very_ long time.

Running out of air, at last, they parted…but only a few inches. He felt her hand ruffle his hair on the back of his head as she grinned at him.

"No, there isn't. And yes. I will."

The kiss had pretty much answered it for him already, but there was something about hearing the words come from her mouth that made Jack realize that she had actually said yes.

"Really?" He knew he sounded surprised. He couldn't help it. If he was right about this, he had just saved their future. That thought alone nearly overwhelmed him. Not something he needed to share right now. Time for something more in keeping with what she'd expect.

"Great! Okay, let's go to work."

He picked up his keys and opened the door, smiling to himself at Sam's dumbfounded look as she walked past him. As he went to pull the door shut behind him, he glanced upward and smiled.

"Thanks, Jacob. I owe you one."


End file.
